The Darkest Sunrise
by Pinkster Lily
Summary: Since Bella was changed by Carlisle in 1901,shes given up on love.That is until she meets Edward,a young charming boy who won't leave her alone.Now Bella finds herself challenging her beliefs.But what happens when an old enemy threatens to destroy it all?
1. The True Meaning of Irony

Summary: Since Bella was changed by Carlisle in 1901, she had given up on humanity, thinking that love was something that only happened in romance novels

**Summary**: Since Bella was changed by Carlisle in 1901, she had given up on humanity, thinking that love was something that only happened in romance novels. That is until she meets Edward Masen, a young charming boy who won't seem to leave her alone. Bella finds herself challenging her beliefs at every turn. What happens when an old enemy comes out of the shadows, threatening to destroy it all?

The Darkest Sunrise

By:

Vixen Hood

Chapter One:

The True Meaning of Irony

The market place in Chicago was a somewhat crowded place on this rare, cloudy day in the middle of June. Vendors shouted their wares to the potential buyers and the surrounding crowds responded as expected—either ignoring the sellers all together or bustling from stand to stand, looking at items even if they weren't what the buyer had come for in the first place.

Men, women, boys, girls—they all joined the market bustle, most bumping into one another here or there, never slowing, never stopping to see who they had knocked over, continuing along in their busy and uneventful lives like little worker bees, all part of the bigger picture.

I myself felt like an intruder in the hive, a poser, as I shopped for the props that Carlisle had sent me out to get so as to keep the human worker bees from getting to suspicious of our intrusion into their daily lives. I nervously glanced around now and then, watching the sky carefully to make sure the sun wouldn't come out anytime soon.

Every so often, I'd stop and buy something from one of the shouting vendors, like piranhas in their attempts to ambush me and eat me alive. It was still early in the day, so the market wasn't as crowded as it could have been, the cloud cover encouraging people to stay indoors, case it rain. I knew it wouldn't rain, the air was too dry for rain to come down anytime soon, but I couldn't tell the humans that. To them, I was but an insignificant girl, the adopted daughter of a small-time doctor's dead brother, to those who might have seen me around and took notice. Nothing too incredibly special.

Oh, but I was. We were special. Even among our own world, we were special. Beautiful, pale, powerful, unstoppable. I could imitate others. Copy their voices, their behavior, and their appearance, to the point where I could copy their powers, if they had any. I just had to know what I was looking for.

And the apparently "small-time doctor" that had adopted me was the other that was special. He had made me into what I was now, and he, though he had no apparent power, was very powerful. He had an unusually high level of resistance for our kind—which I had been able to copy—along with a large amount of compassion that I had shared without taking it from him. He was strong, stronger than I in some ways, because he was able to be around our natural prey and not snap—something I might not have been able to do unless I had copied it from him.

"His" name was Carlisle Cullen, a vampire and doctor. He had found me out in the middle of the wilderness while hunting when I was human, and still fragile and weak. I didn't remember how I had gotten there or anything at all, for that matter. Carlisle had later told me that I had smelled strongly of vampire when he found me and then changed me out of sympathy. Apparently I had been there for several days prior to him finding me.

When we had discovered my power, a very interesting event in which I had started to copy Carlisle's voice as he spoke to me, I discovered the true meaning of _irony_. I didn't know who I was, so instead I took what I learned from others and applied it to myself, therefore effectively _copying_ it.

Carlisle is the best person I have ever had the honor to meet in my remembered lifetime. He took me in and taught me how to hunt animals. If he hadn't been the vampire to find me I probably would have ended up hunting humans, because Carlisle's was the first behavior I copied. Without him, I'd either be dead or wishing I was.

Because of our plight to be "good" vampires (though, honestly, we were very, very bad at being vampires, an irony I had pointed out to Carlisle before) we had beautiful golden eyes instead of the horrific red orbs most vampires had. Our skin, like all vampires, sparkled in the sunlight and did not burst into flames like how Bram Stoker says in his novel. Apparently, he fell in love with a vampire who didn't love him back, so he decided to write a book about vampires being despicable creatures. Annoying twit.

Carlisle had changed me in 1901, and since then we had traveled together. It was nice, Carlisle was like a father too me, and we either pretended to be siblings or related in some other fashion. It varied depending on how long we were planning on staying and how young we were willing to pretend to be.

I guess you're wondering what my name is. Since neither Carlisle nor I knew, we just guessed at names until I found one that sounded mostly right. Marie Isabella, or Bella for short, was as close as I got. Marie didn't sound quite right when Carlisle called me it, so we assumed that I was called by my middle name as a human, and I liked Bella better, anyway.

We had lived in Chicago for only a few months now, only emerging at night or on cloudy days such as this. The tale we fed humans was that I was homeschooled during the day and Carlisle worked the nightshift at the local hospital because it was the only available job at the time we moved, which was very much true. Our small but beautiful home was relatively isolated on the street we lived on, large trees surrounding it so that none of our human neighbors would see the lights on at night or the sparkling, diamond-like glitter of our skin during the day.

Today had been the first cloudy day in about a month, so Carlisle had sent me out to get our props because I had started getting restless with watching the street from the inside of our house during the day. Carlisle mostly read, but there was only so much reading that I could do without getting distracted. Especially when I had run out of paint.

That was another thing. I loved to draw my surroundings. We had literally hundreds of paintings hung around our house that I had either drawn or painted from the various places we had lived. It was just a part of me to copy the things I saw onto either canvas or paper, though lately because of the paint issue, I had been stuck with paper.

I glanced down at my basket after checking the unsuspecting humans again. I had everything Carlisle said we needed, so I turned down a side street to the place where the shop that sold paint supplies was.

The bell on the door chimed as I entered, alerting the old clerk at the front desk in the far back that a customer had come in. He smiled warmly at me and I copied him with ease. It was fortunate that most humans were very unobservant to these little differences between vampires like Carlisle and I, and them. Otherwise, the clerk would have been very disturbed by the fact that my smile was exactly the same as his, with the same amount of friendliness and slight predatory instinct as his eyes alighted upon a potential target to sell to. Even down to the amount of teeth that I showed when I copied his smile.

That was another reason Carlisle had sent me out. I was the best at copying the humans' behavior.

I immediately glided over to the paints, selecting which ones I wanted with quick precision along with a few new brushes and a mixing pallet. At the front desk, I also grabbed a new drawing pad and charcoal so that if I ran out of paint before I could get down to the market again, I wouldn't go insane trying to find spare scraps of paper and a pencil.

The shopkeeper rang up my total and I pulled the money needed out of the small concealed pocket in my dress. I counted it out for him and he thanked me, giving me a receipt and helping me load the supplies into my nearly full basket.

I walked out of the store whistling quietly to myself as I swung my basket back and forth as I walked down the street, away from the market. There was no need to walk back in the direction I came from, when I could stop in the park and maybe draw a couple or two strolling about on a walk down the path there. As long as I got back before the sun peaked out from behind the clouds, I could go anywhere I wanted.

So deep into my thoughts, I didn't notice as a group of thugs, about my age in appearance, come up from a small side street and surrounded me until it was too late.

I mentally swore in my head as the leader, the biggest of course, approached me. "Hey there, sweetie. You're not lost now, are you?" The others laughed along with him, and I rolled my eyes. Idiots. Most humans tended to stay away from Carlisle and I, their subconscious telling them that we were dangerous. Of course, every now and then, there was the human that was so oblivious to their subconscious needs that it was a shock that they hadn't been eaten yet. "No thanks," I called, "I know where I'm going." I tried to sidestep him, but he wasn't having that.

"Oh, looky here," he crowed, snatching the drawing book from my basket before I could stop him. "A drawin' book. What were ya plannin' to do with this?"

I glance around discreetly. I was still to close to the market to retaliate like I wanted to without someone noticing, and even if I wasn't, then we'd still have to move yet again if I revealed myself, even if to a bunch of half-wit thugs. "What do you think?" I retorted.

"Oh, a smart one, Alec," said one who was obviously the second-in-command. "Show her what we do to th' smart ones."

Alec the Idiot laughed and looked over at his second. "Ah, bu' Julian, she's but a wee little lady. We might as well—hey!"

While he had been blabbing to his second, Julian, I had darted in and snatched the drawing book out of his hand, stuffing it back into my basket and backing away so I was in the middle of the large ring of idiots. There were about five of them, I could take them easily if it came to it, but hopefully not. The odds were that they wouldn't go off screeching about how some inhuman girl had beaten them, simply because I was a _girl_, but I didn't want to take the chance.

"Get out of my way," I snarled at him, furious.

"Oh and why should we do tha'? These are our streets, here, and you're trespassin'." He said with a feral look. I personally hoped no one changed him into a vampire; else we'd have an out-of-control vampire rapist among us, which would definitely not bode well for any females, human and vampire alike.

"I don't think so. Now get out of my way."

Suddenly one of the boys behind me yelled in a gruff voice, "Hey, I know her! She's tha' Cullen gal!"

We all turned to him. I was in shock, the only ones who knew my name were the people on our upper-class street, and this boy was definitely not a member of our neighborhood, what with his tattered clothes and obvious lower-class accent.

"What you talkin' about, Reeves?" asked another boy.

Reeves seemed uneasy under all the stares, and he shifted from foot to foot. "I saw her askin' for Doc' Cullen at the hospital las' week. She said she was his niece or somethin' like tha'."

"Who cares," said Alec, turning all attention back to him. My dress whished against the cobble stones as I turned to face him again. "She's on our territory now." He advanced on me, and I prepared to fight him without breaking anything when a new voice entered the scene.

"Leave her alone," said a smooth, male voice. We all whirled around to see a beautiful boy standing only about ten feet from our gathering.

_Okay, tell me what you all think. It was just a random idea I had, and I thought I'd try it out. Please review!_

_Signed,_

_V.H._


	2. My Little Secret

Chapter Two:

My Little Secret

At least, he looked like a boy. He looked to be no older than I, with messy, strange red-brown hair and vibrant emerald green eyes. He was tall, over six feet, though he was very lean, definitely not as muscled as the thugs that had formed a ring around me. They were all heavily muscled and probably in there late teens or early twenties. This boy was no older the sixteen, seventeen at most.

How was he planning to take down these guys? He was either insane or had a wish for suicide. He was clearly moderately wealthy, at least. His clothes were neat and pressed, even if his sleeves were rolled up and creased at the elbows. A pair of suspenders was placed evenly on his shoulders, and he had an air about him that said fresh. And he was clean-shaven, a quality these idiots surrounding me clearly didn't process. These people ate boys like him for lunch.

Alec, the leader who had just been harassing me, laughed. "Get outta 'ere, freshy. You don't want no trouble from us."

The bronze haired boy shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, the picture of ease. "I'd go, only you seem about to assault a lady. It's only my place to intervene."

I looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he'd understand that I wanted him to get _away_ from here. I couldn't stand it if some innocent bystander got hurt because of me. I could take care of myself, not that he knew that, but that wasn't the point.

He seemed to misunderstand my expression for one that cried for help, and took a step forward. I was fighting my very instincts to copy him, and step forward as well. Fortunately, for now, I was winning. I wanted him to leave, and taking a step towards him would only encourage him.

"Aw, bu' th' liddle lady 'ere was jus' havin' some fun wi' us," Alec replied, stepping toward me and putting one large, burly arm around my waist. Gah, his accent was terrible. And lord, did he smell.

"Well," I said, stepping away from his arm in disgust, "if you're quite done abusing the English language, I'd like to be going now." I tried to step away, but his horribly hot hand wrapped around my upper arm, preventing me from leaving unless I wanted to break his fingers. Which I might just do if he didn't let go of me in about three seconds.

The boy growled, his hands coming into fists by his side. "Let her go."

Alec laughed again. "I don't think so, mate. I think I'll hav' a little fun first." He positively leered at me, that predatory look in his eyes again. He pulled me closer, and I dug my heels into the ground to stop him from getting any nearer. Alec just stepped forward himself, leaning down—

_BAM!_

A fist came out of nowhere, striking Alec across the face. I hadn't noticed the bronze haired boy edging closer to us until he hit Alec. Apparently he was a lot stronger than he looked, because Alec's head jerked to the side as the boy hit him and he went wheeling, stumbling back and releasing his hold on me.

It was such a shock to me that the boy had hit him, that I didn't realize until it was too late that I had started falling to the ground. I fell slowly—by vampire speed at least—and automatically, copying human behavior again, reached out an arm to find something to help break the fall that I knew wouldn't actually hurt me.

My hand latched onto one of the thug's legs with bruising force, yanking him to the ground as well. He yelped before his head connected with the ground, dazed and cross-eyed.

The boy was currently rolling on the ground with Alec, both throwing punches at each other. No one was looking at me, the cause of the trouble to begin with, so I jumped up at vampire speed and rushed over to Reeves, seizing him from behind.

My scrawny little arms locked around his neck as I jumped to get up to his six foot five height. He jumped in shock and reached back with both his hands, his back bending backwards so that my feet were temporarily touching the ground, trying to pry me off, but my vampire strength wouldn't allow it. Then my feet left the ground as Reeves suddenly bent double in order to try to throw me off, his momentum carrying both me and him forward. I was launched off his back and sent rolling in a tangled mess with him along the pavement.

My eyes darted quickly over to the fight between Alec and the boy, their scuffle no longer confined to the ground as they stood, the others joining Alec, making it four against one. I copied the right hook that Alec had just executed and the boy had just barely dodged, effectively knocking Reeves unconscious.

Sighing, I got up, untangling my now dirty and torn dress from the large form underneath me. How was I going to explain this to Carlisle? There was no way I was going to tell him I was the subject of a fight. He'd be furious.

I turned back to the fight, watching as the boy bent backwards in order to miss another punch. Alec stepped back, allowing one of the others (I didn't really pay attention to whom) have a go at the boy.

I was infuriated now. Four against one was hardly fair, but three against one was hardly any better.

I dashed at Alec, still somehow managing to keep my run at human speed despite my anger, and wound back my fist, copying the move the boy was making, as he was making it. At the same time our fists connected with our targets, my rock hard skin making a loud _crack_ as it met Alec's jaw. I knew that it felt like he had just been hit by a boulder, and he cried out in pain, clutching his jaw in agony.

It wasn't like I had _broke_ his jaw, but I was pretty sure that I had cracked it. Not that he was going to go about blabbing that a girl had fractured his jaw—he was too much of a sexist pig to admit that he had been beaten by a girl.

Alec and his other two cronies turned and ran tail between their legs, from us. I got a perverse sense of satisfaction at the sight, and bent down to pick up a piece of rock to lob at Alec's retreating head. "Take that!" I yelled, throwing the rock with infallible precision over Reeves's head as he stumbled to his feet and ran after them, leaving their last cohort behind, and turning around, hearing the satisfying _thunk_ as it hit the back of Alec's head.

I rounded on the boy now, irate.

"I can take care of myself, thank you," I told him, jutting my chin up in the air in an attempt to look taller than my five foot four inches really allowed.

The boy, though obviously trying to be polite, couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips. "Please," he said, doubtfully. "What exactly was your plan, then?"

I ignored the comment, coming to a stop about eight feet from him. It was silent for a moment, and then, "Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step towards me and extending a hand to me. "That was quite a punch you threw there." His eyes traveled to my hand, and I quickly hid it. It wouldn't do if he saw that my hand was perfectly unscathed.

"I'm fine. You, on the other hand," I said, looking him over. A bruise was blooming on his cheek, and his lip was split. His knuckled were also bruised and scraped up from the fight. "Could be better," I finished lamely.

He laughed, and I had to fight the instinct to copy it. I already wanted to offer my hand up to him, just like he was to me, but I had been succeeding so far against my power. "I've had worse," he said honestly. "I'll be all better in a few days. Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, stooping to pick up the basket that I hadn't even realized I'd dropped.

"I'm fine," I repeated, taking the basket from him. He looked around, spotted my new drawing book, and then picked it up.

"Thought I was missing something," he smiled, handing it to me. He was much closer now. I reached up automatically in typical human behavior, about to wipe the blood that was slowly trickling down from his lip, when I thought better of it. If I touched the blood, I wouldn't be able to resist putting my fingers to my lips to taste it, and that would raise questions. Instead I tugged his shirt straight and pulled out an old handkerchief out of my basket, handing it to him. He took it and held it up to his lip. "Thank you."

"No problem. Keep it. Lord knows I have plenty," I told him, smiling in response to his own grin. I was able to keep it only as a friendly, sweet smile, glad that I hadn't copied the dashing crooked grin that had graced his face.

"I'm Edward Masen," he introduced, tucking the handkerchief into his pocket and holding out a hand for me to take.

With extreme self control, I was able to place my 'undamaged' hand in his and act the quant, little human girl I was supposed to be pretending to be. "Pleasure," I smiled. This boy—Edward—smelled absolutely mouthwatering, but I was able to resist simply because of Carlisle's copied restraint towards hunting humans. Otherwise, Edward would have been nothing but a lifeless corpse by now. "Bella Cullen," I continued. Edward smiled, kissing my knuckles and then releasing my hand.

"The same Bella Cullen as Doctor Cullen's niece?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yes, the very same."

"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Your uncle's kindness and recent move here to Chicago has been the topic of many of my mother's tea parties."

I was surprised, but didn't show it. They had talked about us? "Where is it you live, Edward?" I asked.

"On Elmwood Boulevard, but two blocks over from your street, I believe."

"Yes, yes. We—that is to say, my uncle and I—" I added hastily, "live on Church." How ironic, really. Two vampires who lived on Church Street. Life had its little quirks, and this was just one of them.

Edward smiled again, wider this time. "Then maybe I will see you around at one of Mother's parties?" he asked, a small pink tinge to his cheeks. He really was such a delightful boy to talk to, nothing at all like the usual humans who simply stared at Carlisle and I either in dislike, shock, or awe.

I bit my lip, yet another habit copied from Carlisle. I couldn't go, not if it was sunny outside, and even if it wasn't, Carlisle would not like the fact that I was associating with a human. With another vampire, no problem, but with the very species we were trying to keep our true existence from? 'No way' was an understatement.

"I don't know," I hedged after awhile. "Carlisle home schools me during the day. I don't think he would let me off for even one afternoon," I lied easily. The lies that I told so often got easier and easier to tell, to the point where they were almost truth within my mind.

Edward was silent, obviously thinking very hard, as he walked me home, the perfect gentleman. It took less than ten minutes to reach my street, the large block sign on the corner announcing to all that they had reached Church Street. Once at the corner, I stopped Edward with a hand on his arm.

"I believe I can make it from here," I told him as his green eyes met my own topaz set. "It was nice meeting you, Edward. Perhaps I shall see you around again."

I turned; ready to start walking down the street to the large, concealed white house with red shutters. Edward's voice stopped me.

"Bella?"

I turned.

"In a few days time, on the twentieth, my mother is to host a dinner party in honor of my seventeenth birthday."

"Congratulations," I said, smiling.

"Yes, yes," he agreed absentmindedly before continuing. "Would you like to come? I know it is very short notice, but I would very much like it if you came."

I paused, before saying, "I'll be there. After sunset. That's when Carlisle goes to work." It also happened to be when the sun actually set.

Edward's face brightened instantly, and I restrained a smile. For some reason, seeing him happy made me happy. Perhaps I had copied a little too _much_ of typical human behavior. This was something that was normal of a human girl, not a vampire girl. Yes, that had to be it.

He looked about to say something, then, "I can't ask you to go around your uncle's back." A frown pulled his lips down. I frowned in response.

"Don't worry about it. I'm old enough to take care of myself. Carlisle only babysits me because he's concerned." I managed to smile again. "Don't worry about it," I repeated. "I'll be there."

And with that, I turned around and walked away, aware of Edward's eyes upon my back until I turned onto the path up to the house and was hidden by the large trees.

* * *

I was sitting on the window seat in my room, legs crossed with a sketch pad in my lap. I was staring out the window at the old church down the street. Though the trees obscured a view of my room from the street, my second floor window had a perfect view of the street below and to the far left.

Carlisle had been upset that I had gotten into a fight, though he didn't know about Edward. As far as he knew, I had managed to get into a scuffle with the leader and then made it away. There would be no trouble for us later on. So, for now, Edward Masen was my little secret.

So now, two days later, I was drawing yet again, as predicted. With nothing else to do, it was expected.

The sun had come out again, so I was confined to the house. I was just happy that I had gotten that one day, especially that day. Edward provided me with amusement that I seriously needed. He was charming, sweet, caring, and enchanting. Everything to keep me interested for quite some time. There was really no other reason why I was interested in him.

Or, at least, that's what I told myself.

I continued to draw the Church, taking great care to get the spire to scale and all the details of the roof drawn, from the pattern the tiles made to the chipped roof tile three rows up from the bottom and four over from the left.

The church was extremely old—at least a hundred years old—as was the neighborhood. The only reason our house was new was that Carlisle had purchased the land in was on and had the old, rundown house rebuilt to look like one of the old Victorian houses that we both loved so much, and then had the shutters repainted red instead of the original blue, because he knew I had always wanted a house with red shutters. Carlisle was like that—willing to do anything to make me happy. Except maybe let me go to Edward's party, which was something I didn't want to take a chance on, and had therefore not told him. As far as he knew, the twentieth would be that same as all the other days of the year.

But Carlisle wasn't here now. It often happened—Carlisle would forget himself at the hospital, too caught up in curing patients to notice that it was almost dawn. Whenever that happened, he would go to his office and lock himself in his office. As far as anyone else was concerned, he had stayed late (or early, it depended on your point of view) and was doing paperwork. No one bothered him; they all respected and subconsciously feared him too much to even go near his office unless necessary. It also meant that I had a solid block of thirty-six hours to contemplate my existence. Alone.

To put it simply, Carlisle was the only person (vampire or otherwise) that kept me sane.

Even other vampires—who, quite frankly, I didn't trust—couldn't keep me occupied. It was a trust issue. To me, any vampire that wasn't Carlisle could be the prospective enemy that we knew had attacked me when I was human. Carlisle was the perfect person: compassionate, loving, intelligent, and excellent at chess. We would often spend hours of our daylight time playing chess. It was difficult and challenging, especially for me because I was trying my hardest not to copy him, so it was good exercise for me.

I finished with the last details of the drawing and put the last finishing touches. I wrote the date (June 16th, 1918), the time (mid-day), the lighting (natural), where it was done (Chicago, down the street), and the title (Church on Church Street).

I sighed, closing the booklet and leaning back, vaguely wishing that I could fully relax, and that I wasn't as comfortable sitting as I was standing. The curse of being a vampire, or so Carlisle told me. I couldn't remember what it was like to feel my muscles relax as I rested on a comfy cousin. I felt like I should miss it, though, along with all the other things Carlisle said that vampires missed out on, but I couldn't really miss what I never knew. It did, however, make me feel sorry for all the other vampires that could and did miss it.

I let my mind wander to Carlisle.

He had given me everything, had saved me from dying a horrid, tragic death. He was my companion, my father, my world in every sense of the word. I had learned everything I knew now from him. He was unbelievably kind, caring for people he didn't know and doing anything possible for those he cared about, even if it unconvinced him. I owed my life and more to him.

I felt bad that I was going behind his back and knew that when he found out—which he would, eventually—he would be hurt. That single fact of the situation hurt me more than anything else ever had in my existence, but something brought me to Edward. His blood, his charm, whatever it was, I wasn't going to ignore it.

I silently cursed the sunlight, hating how it reflected off the skin of my exposed hands where they sat in my lap and onto the rare crimson color of the walls, casting rainbows onto the paint. There probably wouldn't be another cloudy day for a few weeks, if not months. I was therefore confined to the house until sunset. I still wondered why we had chosen Chicago of all places to move to, when we could have gone farther north or even to that city in West Virginia that was extremely cloudy, Elkins, or Elksworth, or something to that effect. But we had to choose Chicago. Hm. Well, I couldn't really complain since I had found something to keep me occupied, but it was still so annoying to be stuck indoors all day, and then I couldn't go out into the public at night because no one _was_ out at that time. Ridiculous.

I sighed again, this time mildly angry, and glanced up at the ceiling before looking away out at the trees next to my window. If anything, I did love this house the most out of all of the homes we had ever occupied together.

The shades were open, the trees strategically placed so that you could see out onto the street, but not in. The only spot that wasn't covered in shade were my hands, and that was because that one spot hadn't quite grown in yet.

My room was simply decorated. It was part art studio, part living quarters, and I had an easel set up next to the window seat I was sitting on, and another in front of the large window that I had drawn the thick shades over because the sunlight filtered into the room still. In another few weeks, I could have the velvet curtains open and not worry about the sun. Normally, I wouldn't have worried about it anyways, since you couldn't see the house from the street, but who knew when a human might come to visit and peer up at the windows as they walked to the door? It was better to be safe than sorry.

I had an ebony desk in the corner along the wall that had the door so that the desk was flush with it, and the window seat and covered window were (if you were standing in the doorway) to the left of the door. Along the opposite wall from the door, I had some of my work displayed in frames and there was a small door about three feet high that I used as a storage closet for my other works and my supplies. A red Victorian couch sat along the wall opposite from the window seat and to the right of the door, while a matching chair sat near it, oriented around an ebony coffee table which sat upon a beautiful rug that covered the dark wooden floor in that area. The room itself was large and rectangular, with the wall the door rested on and its opposite being the longest. It was a nice room in general, and I spent the majority of my time in it. Of course, no human would guess that I did, but no human had ever come this far into the house after we had moved in. Also, the ceiling was high, something that was uncommon in houses even now, because it was more expensive to heat during the winter, but we vampires didn't like the claustrophobic feel of low ceilings and liked the space, so Carlisle had had it built in. Plus, it wasn't like the cold would actually _bother_ us.

I moved my eyes to the curtains, and pulled the thick crimson velvet closer together so that the sunlight no longer touched my hands. I sighed happily to myself when the light cast off from my diamond-like hands had disappeared. I leaned my head back against the wall again and closed my eyes, trying to relax, though really, I still was as comfortable either way.

I sighed, bored. I had already drawn everything that there was to draw on the street today, and I glanced back at the ceiling. There was nothing to do but wait for Carlisle to come home now.

So wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice when someone with a beating heart walked up our drive and stepped onto the porch. It wasn't until I was knocked out of my thoughts by the quick rapping at the front door that I even moved. I jumped up, thoughts of who would come to call at our house _period_ floating through my brain as I went to answer the door.

_I have to hand it to __**anonymous**__, they were persistent. After reading those reviews, I felt motivated not to take so long to update. I figured, hey strong compulsion to write this chapter + half of it already done happy me, happy reviews, and did I mention a __**happy, ALIVE me**__? So yeah, review? Because unlike with one of my other stories, it didn't take me 9 months to update._

_Sorry about the sort-of-cliffhanger._

_Signed,_

_V.H._


	3. A Cup of Tea for the Human

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* * *

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I sighed, bored. I had already drawn everything that there was to draw on the street today, and I glanced back at the ceiling. There was nothing to do but wait for Carlisle to come home now.

_So wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice when someone with a beating heart walked up our drive and stepped onto the porch. It wasn't until I was knocked out of my thoughts by the quick rapping at the front door that I even moved. I jumped up, thoughts of who would come to call at our house __period__ floating through my brain as I went to answer the door._

Chapter Three:

A Cup of Tea for the Human

I was down the stairs in an instant, gliding to the front door and placing my hand on the latch. I pressed my ear against it, listening for a moment. No, nothing that would betray who this human was. Carefully, I slipped behind the door as I opened it, not wanting to step into the ray of sun that came through as I did so.

I cowered behind the edge of the door as I saw who it was. The boy who saved me, though I didn't need saving.

My eyes were wide and I couldn't bring myself to speak, trying to focus on copying Carlisle's control as I smelt his delectable scent on the breeze blowing into the house. I smiled pleasantly, remembering how Carlisle smiled at each of his patients when he meets them for the first time.

"Hello, Bella," Edward greeted from my doorstep, smiling and tipping an imaginary hat to me. I suppressed a chuckle at his antics, watching his form as it fidgeted. I noticed with regret that the bruise on his cheek from yesterday's scuffle with the thugs was darker in color and his split lip had scabbed over.

"Good day, Edward," I replied, staying behind the door in the shadows. I was not comfortable with how, even though I was not standing in the sun, the excess light bounced off my skin, causing it to glow faintly. I barely remembered that my hair was not done up as it should be for a lady of my standing, and that the dress I was currently wearing was paint-stained and wrinkled from my long sit at my window seat, but I could not bring myself to care. What humans thought of me was trivial and ultimately unimportant in the long run.

The wind gusted again, pushing Edward's lovely scent and the humid heat that accompanied Chicago summers into the house. I briefly wondered what Carlisle would think when he smelled the scent of a human in our entryway.

"So," Edward said, running a hand through his hair nervously, "I was wondering, as it is such a beautiful day, if you would accompany me for a stroll through the park."

I looked down, my hair falling in front of my face, the ends dangling in the stream of light. I watched as the dust in the house swirled in the light of the sun flooding through the door, observing its patterns with great interest. "No, I am afraid that I cannot come outside today—fragile skin," I muttered, the excuse pathetic, however believable as I gestured to my pale skin. It was nearly transparent, it was so pale, and Edward would easily believe that I would turn red the instant I left the shade of the house. If only he knew what would really happen if I left the confines of the house when the weather was like this.

Despite my refusal, I still had briefly contemplated the idea of copying a human and becoming one in appearance for a short amount of time, though that idea was hardly plausible. It was simply too dangerous for me to do so, as I had to concentrate on keeping up the façade if I wanted to not suddenly start to sparkle in the sunlight during our stroll.

It was harder for me to copy something so human—so big—as normal human appearance. I had tried the trick only once before, but had quickly discovered that in order to maintain a human appearance that complicated and large, I had to think only of what I was doing, which was problematic when combined with multiple distractions and a busy, bright street. Carlisle and I had fled the town I had last tried that in during the middle of the night, leaving most of our belongings behind. We were just lucky that the Volturi had never heard of the incident.

Edward looked putout, though he still nodded in understanding. He stood awkwardly on the doorstep for a moment, looking out of place on the porch. Our house did not have that lived in look or feel. To any outside observer, it would look as if it was only a temporary place for the occupants to live in, which was what it was to Carlisle and I. We would spend a maximum of four years here before we sold the house and moved on to yet another town, yet another group of gossiping humans, and yet another house to take cover in during the day.

His feet shifted again, and I shifted my attention to those. Edward had this home-spun feel to him—genuine. I had a feeling that he never let himself be caught up in the rumors and tales that his class (and technically Carlisle's and mine, though we never participated in anything with them) usually embodied.

He contrasted so sharply with the empty porch, the only thing occupying the space besides him being fallen leaves that skittered across the wood with each gust of wind. It struck me how empty this house caused me feel. It was no home to me, as surely Edward's house was to him. It was just a place to take shelter in when the sun decided to make an appearance. We didn't even have a door mat, and I mentally made a note to remind Carlisle to get one the next time he was out. Normal humans had door mats, right?

Edward cleared his throat and my gaze snapped up to his green eyes. "Well then, Bella, I apologize for bothering you today, and I do hope to see you at my birthday celebration. Good day."

I just stood there as he turned and strode down the steps to the path that led out to the main road. The wind rustled the trees and blew a few leaves into the house, disrupting the swirls of dust I had been studying earlier.

"Wait!"

I had not realized that I had called out to him until he turned to look at me, halfway down the road. "Yes, Bella?"

I froze, not entirely sure what to do. I was trapped inside the house, but I still wanted to spend time with Edward. "Why don't you come in?"

Edward smiled and started up the walkway again, coming to a stop at the front door. I opened it wider to let him in, inhaling as he walked past me. His scent—masculine and like lilacs and fresh cotton and warm sun, wafted through the entryway, soaking into the walls and floor. I shut the door, and suddenly it seemed very dark in the hall. All the shades were pulled over the windows, though the air was not stale due to my lack of the need to breathe. I was certain that Edward could smell mine and Carlisle's scents saturating the air. It smelled sweet to me, like vampire and wood and fabric. He could definitely smell it.

He turned around to face me, most likely waiting for me to escort him to the sitting room. The only problem was that our sitting room (which I felt was a really room to have in a house, though Carlisle did not agree) was still unfurnished. Though we had lived in Chicago for several months now, neither Carlisle nor I had the time so far to look for furniture. It was something that was not high on the list of things for us to do, as we never had guests before, but now it was an issue.

I smiled and led him further down the hall, passing the sitting room and walking to the staircase. "I am afraid that our sitting home is currently under renovation," I began as I started up the first stair. "I hope you do not mind."

I glanced back at Edward, who was shaking his head. "No, no. That is fine."

I smiled. "Excellent."

I led him up to the second floor and to my room, not wanting him and his human scent to be sticking to any of the places Carlisle frequented. I would have to open all the windows in the house to rid Edward's smell from it, but that did not matter to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward shiver a little and rub his hands together. My brow scrunched up in confusion – was it cold?

I entered the room first, trying to look at it through Edward's eyes and finding that it, too, looked unlived-in, though at the same time used. Most of my pictures that Carlisle and I had framed were leaning against the wall, as I had not had the energy or the patience to hang them yet. The only ones that were hung were the ones that I deemed the most important. A near empty glass sat upon the coffee table, left over from yesterday when Carlisle had decided to act human again. It still held the remnants of his untouched wine.

I turned to Edward as he surveyed the room, taking in the closed shades and slightly askew belongings. I noted that he looked mildly confused, as if by the fact that all my personal belongings laid in this room, yet there was no bed. That was another thing that I had not particularly cared for in any of the houses Carlisle and I had lived in. Carlisle insisted upon having a bed in his room, even if he couldn't use it properly, because he enjoyed pretending to sleep every now and then.

I thought it was a little ridiculous to insist upon such a useless thing, and when I had told him many years ago, he had said that he missed it. After so many years of nights spent sleeping, the change into a vampire was something he had never quite adjusted to. I couldn't really sympathize with him, as I could not remember what sleeping was like, but I let him have that small solace.

Edward moved toward the collection of chairs and the couch after he had fully taken in the room, and I realized for the first time, as insignificant as it was, that I was not wearing shoes. I pushed that thought away though as I sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee, maybe a bit of wine?" I offered, knowing that normal people didn't lead guests to the upstairs rooms and offer them wine in the middle of the day, and not caring. Edward shook his head, watching me as I adjusted my worn dress and pulled my feet up onto the chair with me, leaning on the right armrest as I finally became situated.

"You are one strange girl, aren't you, Bella?"

"Hm?" I glanced up at him, my eyes boring into his brilliant green ones.

"Normal people don't offer wine midday, or take guests upstairs." He was reading my mind now. I smiled at him.

"I never said I was normal." Edward seemed to ponder this for a moment, eyes wandering around the room before settling on me again.

"So, what are you then, Bella?"

I continued to smile pleasantly. "Different. Can't you tell?" I coached him, my voice flowing smoothly. Edward's eyes glazed over in response, and he was speechless for a few moments, gaping at me. I chuckled, the sound seeming to knock him out of his daze.

Edward shook his head, looking at his hands. "Yes. You truly are extraordinary."

I gave him a one-sided shrug, accidentally copying his crooked grin. "If you say so."

"So," he said, looking around the room again, "What is this room you have brought me to?"

"My…" I trailed off, trying to think of an appropriate way to describe it to a human, "my room. Sort of."

Edward raised an eyebrow at me. "Sort of?"

"Yes," I sighed, clasping my hands together in my lap. "I spend most of my time here."

Edward nodded, smirking. "Between here and dark alleyways, of course."

"Hey," I objected, "it was not dark."

"An alleyway is an alleyway," Edward muttered.

I had to give him that. I did have an unnatural tendency to attract trouble in any way. From vampires to street thugs, I didn't know what was next. "True."

"Do you like to paint?"

I jumped slightly, startled by the sudden change of topic. "What?" I managed, wondering how he had come up with that question. Just as I had pulled myself together and was about to answer him, he interrupted.

"Sorry," he said, his ears and cheeks tinged with pink. "Stupid question. Of course you like to paint."

"Oh, yes," I said, the answer sounding pathetic to my ears. Why was it that around Edward, I lost my ability to respond intelligently? "I enjoy it very much."

Edward stood, walking over to one of the paintings on the wall. "This one," he mused, rubbing his chin, "where is it?"

I walked over to where he stood, already knowing which one he was talking about. I came to a rest behind him, looking at the painting over his shoulder. "That is where Carlisle first found me," I said, gazing at the painted scene of trees and shrubs. We were silent for a moment, Edward still examining the picture.

"You are incredibly talented," he finally said, still staring at the picture. "It's almost as if I'm looking at the real thing."

I nodded, not that he could see it, and suddenly blurted, "Carlisle and I are not really related."

Edward turned around, taking a step back when he realized how close we were. "I thought that you are his niece."

"We just say that. He is like a father to me, and people would question why we were living together if we weren't related in some way. We don't look alike, so we just say that he is my uncle."

Edward nodded, studying my face. "So why do you live together, then, if you're not related?"

I turned away from him as I spoke, meandering over to one of the other paintings that was hung on the wall. "When I was very young, Carlisle found me alone in the woods. He saved my life and cared for me in the years afterward, teaching me everything that I know now. For all intensive purposes, I am his daughter as he is my father."

"So, then why do you have the same color eyes if you are not related?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Edward, alarmed. How did he know that we had the same color eyes? Had he been spying on us? Edward seemed to catch on to my emotions.

"Sorry, it's just that I have met Carlisle at the hospital, and you both have a very strange eye color. Golden—or topaz. I have never seen it before on anyone, so I was just wondering," he rambled, blushing again. He was so adorable when he was embarrassed. He was one of the few humans that could pull off the flush of red to his face and ears.

"Don't worry, Edward," I said, cutting him off. "I don't mind." I turned back to the painting, smiling at Carlisle's painted form on the couch as he read a book. "Carlisle enjoys traveling quite a bit," I started, stalling. "We have lived all over the world. We visit London often, as it is Carlisle's home town, and during one visit someone recommended that we try a place in Egypt for awhile. While there," I continued, still looking at the painting, "we drank from a well in one of the settlements and it made us both very ill. There was something in the water, and to this day we still don't know what it was, but when we recovered we both had golden eyes."

Edward seemed to accept the story, coming to stand next to me and examining the painting I had created of Carlisle. He turned to me, giving me his signature crooked smile. "Tell me about all the places you've lived."

And just like that, the formality of the situation was lost, and I couldn't stop myself from giving him what he wanted.

* * *

Edward left hours later, still demanding information about the different cities and countries Carlisle and I had traveled to. The only thing that forced him out of the house was that Carlisle would be home very soon, having stayed at the hospital all day. Even then, I still had to promise to come to the party his mother was putting on for him and to continue to tell him of each place we had lived in. I smiled as I led him to the front door, watching from the shadows as he strolled down the path to the street, stones crunching under his feet as he went, waving one last time before he was out of sight.

Once he was gone, I went to every window and threw it open, hoping that the wind coming through the house was enough to dilute his smell.

* * *

"Bella?" Carlisle's smooth voice called from the front door. "Are you here?"

It was a rhetorical question; we both knew that I was in the house. As soon as it was dark enough, I had pulled open the curtains in my room that hid the window that was put in place of a front wall and set up my canvas and paints. I heard Carlisle shutting the windows downstairs as I painstakingly used my brush to detail the moon. I picked up my razor without looking and used it to sweep at the paint, trying to add texture to the bright, white moon.

My vampire senses picked up Carlisle's near silent footsteps on the staircase, having shut all the downstairs windows and moving up to the second story.

"Bella," he said as he closed yet another window in the hall, "why are all the windows open?"

I bit my tongue between my teeth, trying to get the craters in the moon just right.

"Bella?"

"What?" I called, still focused on the moon. I stood up on my toes, stretching up past the moon to start work on the wisps of clouds in the night sky. Carlisle tapped lightly on my door before entering, the door swinging open on oiled hinges. Carlisle stepped inside, leaving the door open as he came to where I stood on my tip-toes, trying to paint the edge of the clouds that were barely there at all.

"The windows?" he prompted after a moment, watching me as I struggled.

"Oh," I gasped as I stretched even more. I really needed that stepstool downstairs, but my compulsion to paint the scene outside my window was too great for me to leave the canvas and brush waiting as I went to get it. "It was stuffy. I wanted a breeze as I worked."

Carlisle chuckled, moving behind me. "Only you, Bella, would open every single window in the house in order to work. Need some help?" I nodded gratefully, smiling as Carlisle put his hands on my waist and hoisted my up into the air. One perk of being a vampire: Carlisle could potentially hold me up like this forever.

I sighed in happiness as I was able to finally reach the top of the canvas without trouble. "I hate being short," I said, my feet dangling.

My dress whooshed pleasantly against my bare legs and feet, the silk of the fabric very soft. The windows that formed the casing around the window seat were still open, a soft breeze drifting into the room and causing a few strands of hair to drift into my face. I paid them no mind, simply pulling the hair that I had pinned up with the chopsticks Carlisle had bought for me during our brief stay in Japan. I readjusted the chopsticks again, pushing the beautiful black pieces that had mother of pearl inlay deeper into my mass of dark hair.

Carlisle chuckled, careful to keep me still as he did so. "It must be the bane of your existence," he said, still laughing, "being unable to reach the top of your paintings."

I turned away from the partially finished canvas, sticking my tongue out at him. "You're just jealous that I have so much artistic talent available," I said, sticking my nose up in the air.

Carlisle laughed again, setting me down and taking my paint pallet and brush away from me, placing them on a side table that held the rest of my supplies. He licked his thumb, rubbing it against my nose and cheek.

I scrunched up my nose. "Ew, Carlisle." I pushed his hand away, which now had dark blue paint on the tips of his fingers. I rubbed the back of my hand against the spot he had touched, acutely aware of how much I was acting like a four year old boy who had just been kissed by a girl. "That's gross."

Carlisle's chuckles became louder, and he grabbed my hand, pulling it up to his mouth. His tongue darted out, and I squealed in displeasure at the sensation of his cold, wet tongue on my arm, trying to pull away and laughing myself. "Let go," I cried, laughing as I again attempted to tug my hand away from his grasp. He let me, but now I saw the predatory gleam in his eyes, the one that told me that he wanted to play a game. "No, Carlisle," I said, backing away with my hands held up in the universal symbol of surrender. "I have a painting to finish, and wouldn't you rather finish a book—"

He didn't give me a chance to finish before he growled playfully and crouched down, ready to pounce. I took this as my opportunity to run, sprinting towards the door to the hall, which was still open from when he had entered. There was no way that I could stop Carlisle from playing his game, now. Even I had to admit that it was fun to mess around sometimes, get out from under the stifling human expectations of "propriety."

I was just tearing though the doorway and into the hall when I felt Carlisle on my back, knocking me to the floor, the wood creaking in response to the sudden pressure. Before I knew what was happening, Carlisle was dragging me back into the room, throwing me over his shoulder like one would a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down," I laughed, banging my fists on his back, crying out as he tossed me to the floor inside the room and shut the door. I rolled over onto my stomach, pushing myself up onto my hands and knees. Then Carlisle was there again, pushing me down and sitting on my back. "No, no!" I cried, laughing and collapsing onto the ground as his fingers found my sides, knowing exactly where to go to get the reaction he wanted.

"Ah!" I gasped, though I didn't need the air, squirming as Carlisle didn't let up, "Please! Stop!"

I swear, if tears could have come to my eyes, they would have then as he continued to tickle me relentlessly. I tried to kick at him, but he was too far away for my feet to reach as he pinned me down. I reached out with my hands, trying to claw at the floor in order to escape, but he wasn't having that. Carlisle grabbed my hands, pinning them at my sides with his knees. "Please, Carlisle, please! Stop, I beg you!" I sobbed, my breathing speeding up even more as he didn't give in to my pleas.

Then finally, "Well, Bella, if you insist." But, instead of getting off me like I thought he would, he grabbed my now motionless feet and began to tickle those. I cried out, unable to pull away from his strong grip.

When I had stopped struggling against his hold on me and simply collapsed on the floor and muttered, "I give up," Carlisle let me go, standing up and offering his hand for me to take.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked, laughter in his eyes.

He chuckled as I grumbled at him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet. Carlisle slung me across his back once I was upright, and I laughed again as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on the backs of my knees, carrying me down the stairs and into the kitchen piggyback style.

Once in the kitchen, Carlisle let go of my knees and pulled the kettle from its place in the cupboard and placed it on the gas stove. I stayed where I was on his back, resting my chin on his left shoulder and wrapping my legs around his waist as I watched him light the stove and fill the kettle with water to boil.

"Feel the need for tea, again?" I asked as we moved around the kitchen, my form barely jostling as he gracefully went from cupboard to cupboard, looking for the right ingredients for his tea, the only light coming from the small flame on the stove.

"Yes," he sighed as he went back to the stove, watching as small wisps of steam escaped the little hole in the covering of the spout. "You know how it calms me."

"Yes, yes," I said, nuzzling his neck affectionately. "I know how you like that little bit of humanity you can still get from acting human."

I saw the corner of Carlisle's lip twitch up, and he turned his head to press his cheek to mine. "I wish you knew what it was like, Bella. To be human," he whispered softly. "Maybe one day you will remember."

I closed my eyes, pressing my face into his hair and admiring the way the faint light of the stove caused his golden hair to glint, the sweet smell of pine and honey comforting to my troubled mind. I knew that the likelihood of me remembering anything after seventeen years was incredibly improbable. So did Carlisle, but that did not stop him from trying to give me hope. I had to give him credit for that.

The kettle started to whistle and Carlisle turned away, pulling it off the stove and putting out the flame. Quickly, he pulled out a cup and poured the water into it, setting a tea bag in the steaming water. He picked up the cup in one hand and with the other began to raise and lower the tea bag in the water by the attached string, the herbs causing red swirls to release into the water.

I sniffed the air as Carlisle walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs again, opening the door to his bedroom and placing the tea on the bedside table. I continued to hang onto his neck and waist as he picked up a matchbox and lit the oil lamp next to the bed. The resulting light illuminated the room brightly, forcing my eyes to adjust.

I released Carlisle from my hold, falling onto his bed and watching as he sat down next to me. He used the teabag to stir the liquid in the cup, and I stared at his back from where I lay on his bed. My knees bent at the edge of the mattress, my legs too short for my feet to reach the floor. I sighed, letting my tense muscles relax into the bed, though I would have been just as comfortable on the floor.

Carlisle put his nose to the steam still coming from the cup and inhaled, turning his head to the side to look at me as he did so. His golden eyes were imploring, searching my own pair for something. "You need to hunt," Carlisle said at last, staring at my eyes and gaunt face.

"Do I?" I mused, blinking slowly and letting my eyes wander up to the ceiling. "Maybe I will do that tomorrow."

Carlisle nodded, looking as if he wanted to say more, but turned back to his tea instead and brought it to his lips, though not tipping back the cup. Against the cup, he murmured, "The heat is quite pleasant."

I nodded, looking back to the ceiling. "We need a door mat."

"Hm?" Carlisle mumbled against the cup again, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Normal houses have door mats. We should too."

Carlisle nodded to himself, continuing to smell his tea.

Soon after that, Carlisle set the cup back on his bedside table and kicked off his shoes, loosening his tie and letting it fall to the floor with his white lab coat. He left his socks on as he lifted the covers on the bed and slid under them, blowing out the light. I sat up, watching Carlisle as he settled into mattress and closed his eyes, as if he was about to go to sleep. I sighed, standing up and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

Once in my room, I stared at the painting I had been working on before Carlisle had interrupted me, picking up the abandoned paintbrush and pallet, thankful that the paint was still wet. Then I went back to work on the rustling leaves of the trees outside my window.

_I'm so sorry about taking so long to update! Things have been crazy, and with luck I will be able to update this story very soon. Hope you enjoyed the Carlisle and Bella bonding time._

_Please review!_

_Signed,_

_V.H._


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